


Somebody to Love

by finn0xo



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Dancing, Fluff, M/M, Nighttime, Plotless Fluff, Queen - Freeform, SO MUCH FLUFF, Song: Somebody To Love (Queen), crowley picking up aziraphale makes me soft dont @ me, dancing in the moonlight, ineffable husbands, shoutout to the bentley for cooperating with aziraphale, theyre bad at dancing and u know it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 19:00:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19157026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finn0xo/pseuds/finn0xo
Summary: “May I guide you towards a dance?”“Is that temptation? From an angel?”“Really, it’s my whole job to guide people towards good, is it not?”“How different is that from temptation, anyway?”Crowley and Aziraphale dance in a dark parking lot in the middle of somewhere.





	Somebody to Love

They drove for a long time. Crowley wasn’t sure where they were driving to, or even if he had any control over the destination. For someone in the driver’s seat, this should have been worrying, but the angel to his left seemed to know where they were going, in a quiet sort of way. He’d flick his wrist at the odd turn and Crowley would feel the steering wheel guide him one way or the other. They worked together like that for nearly half an hour, before the car made the executive decision to stop the madness. The place they had stopped was the parking lot for some abandoned gas station, and in the darkness, it was entirely empty, save for the two of them. After the car refused the demon’s foot on the pedal, he slumped down, far into his seat.

Aziraphale took a good look at the parking lot. It was out of repair and out of use, with cracks in the pavement here and there, but not dangerous to walk on, he figured. He tapped Crowley on the shoulder. He was still jamming his foot into the pedal, trying to get the car to move. The car, had their agreement meant anything, would not be moving, so Crowley was not getting very far.

“Oh come on, don’t you give up on me.” His desperation turned to anger (or rather, irritation, disguised the same way a demon disguises anything) soon enough, with the most eloquent _“Move, bastard!”_

“My dear, it’s not going to work. We’ve been driving for a while, and it’s very old, give it a moment of rest.”

Crowley looked up at the angel that had tapped his shoulder, finally giving up on getting the car moving. Aziraphale opened the door, and stepped out. He adjusted himself a bit first, brushing a whole lot of nothing off his clothes, then leaned back down to smile at Crowley. He reached into the car and pressed “play” on the car’s tape player. It chugged and clicked for a second, the way cassettes do. A short whistling yell from the car’s stereo system would not have been out of place had Crowley not taken such good care of his car and of his cassettes, despite every one of them being _Queen Greatest Hits_.

“May I… guide you… towards a dance?” The car dragged itself through the end of _Crazy Little Thing Called Love_ as Crowley joined him outside the car, on the pavement.

“Is that temptation? From an angel?” the demon smirked. Or maybe that was just the way he smiled sans-teeth. That difference is usually found in the eyes, and well… either way, Aziraphale laughed before regaining indignance.

“No, dear. Really, it’s my whole job to guide people towards good, is it not?”

“How different is that from temptation, anyway?” The angel heard the song finish behind him, and snapped his fingers. The volume turned up, and the next song began.

 _Can_  
_Anybody_  
_Find me_ _  
Somebody to love?_

Crowley had heard the song too many times. It lost its meaning decades ago, but as they tripped over each others feet, it felt like the first time it had ever played. Or maybe, it was just the first time he’d ever really listened. The angel didn’t know how to dance. He didn’t know how to dance, either—not like this. This sort of dancing was old, older than the music they had set it to, and it was dignified. The sort of dance an angel would dance to, and that it was. Aziraphale was not great at leading the dance, but he had begun it, so praise the lord, he was going to finish it. They spun and stepped and Crowley felt very un-demonic. It was not unbeknownst to him that Aziraphale was feeling something very much the same, on his own side of things. The dance was something of a waltz, or as much of it as either of them could remember. It wasn’t perfect, or disastrous; rather, it was something different. Not a grey area between good and awful, but a brand new set of colours. The demon couldn’t bring himself to look into the other’s eyes, and the angel could not find Crowley’s eyes behind his sunglasses. So instead, Crowley watched the two pairs of feet below them. Their steps were imperfect, but they stepped together. He averted an incident or two involving cracks in the pavement, changing the direction they danced, or lifting the angel off his feet as the music got louder in the background. He crossed his fingers and hoped that the music was being lifted by means of miracle, rather than the car’s battery. It didn’t come to mind again after that moment. They pulled each other close, twirled away, with a hand linked to the other’s the whole way through.

 _They say I’m going crazy_ __  
_They say I got a lot of water in my brain_ __  
_I got no common sense_ _  
_ _I got nobody left to believe in_

The song was desperate. But it wasn’t unromantic. Aziraphale had spent millenia trying to understand romance, in the same way he had been intrigued by every other part of human life. But, he realized, in this case, it may have become more personal than the origin of crepes or the world of human literature. Crowley begun most of the spinning he was doing, despite Aziraphale leading the dance. He settled with this quickly, knowing that he would not be able to reach high enough to spin Crowley unless he was to be spun by the hips or from his underarms, neither of which seeming all too in line with the nature of this dance. But regardless, he relished being spun, the thrill of it all, how dizzy it made him, and the way Crowley smiled with all the teeth that could naturally fit into a smile. He loved falling into his arms for a beat, before continuing to step the way he had before.

_Find me somebody to love_

The steps were slowly becoming faster, and the music louder. Crowley wondered how much power Aziraphale had over the volume in his vehicle. He wondered again, all decidedly better off inside his head than it was out, this time asking if the angel knew that it was getting louder.

_Find me somebody to love_

Crowley wasn’t warm to the touch in this moment. His hands were ice cold. Dry, too— but not flakey. The hands were boney but careful. Quite the opposite of Aziraphale’s own warm, clumsy hands, which he found rather pleasant. One downside of having a body was just how hot it could get inside of it.

_Find me somebody to love_

Aziraphale dances gracefully. Crowley figured that would be the case, but despite the angel’s feet never finding the right place to land, (they had landed on Crowley a few times, but he didn’t mind) he never did stop being the best sort of angelic with every move he made. At least, that’s what the demon thought.

_Find me somebody to love_

Step forwards. Other foot. Sideways, back. Other foot back. Repeat. Aziraphale didn’t know much more than that, or much better than that, in truth. But he knew it, and they did it. Crowley looked distant, but the edges of his mouth were smiling, and that was enough.

_Find me somebody to love_

Aziraphale spent a lot of time thinking about a whole lot of little nothings, and a whole lot of little somethings. Crowley thought it must have rubbed off on him, because he found his mind far away from him in that moment.

_Find me somebody to love_

The angel was feeling far more than he should have been. Or at least, he was feeling far more than he felt he should have felt.

_Find me, find me somebody to love_

That was a lie, Crowley _was_ in his head. The issue was, perhaps, that he had found himself too deep in his head.

 _Somebody,_ _  
_ _Somebody,_

Step. Twirl. Backwards, forwards, spin, lift, close, far, close, close, closer— step. Forwards, sideways, backwards.

 _Somebody,_ __  
_Somebody,_ _  
_ _Somebody find me_

Crowley had never known the dance they were dancing. Neither of them had. But it felt real, so they just kept on dancing.

_Somebody find me somebody to love_

The night was warm. Or maybe he just had too many layers on.

_Can anybody find me_

They stopped stepping, so much as just gliding. Crowley found their movements less excitable and hyper as they had been a second before.

_Somebody to,_

Aziraphale reached up and pulled off Crowley’s sunglasses. He wasn’t sure what made him do it, it just felt right, in the moment. He stowed them away safely in a pocket in his coat, and for the first time, the two of them looked each other in the eyes.

_Love_

And at that, they were spinning. Crowley spinning the angel, Aziraphale spinning the demon, and music blaring from behind them much louder than the car’s speakers would have allowed under any other circumstance. Had the moment not taken so much of his thought, Crowley would have been concerned for the safety of the Bentley, but alas, he was not, because in that moment, Crowley was rather preoccupied with other matters. Aziraphale lifted his feet off the ground, which made Crowley hold up not only his weight, but also the spin that had begun and wasn’t ending.

_Find me, somebody to love_

Aziraphale could feel his wings sprawling out behind him. He was in the air, it made sense. His legs wrapped around Crowley’s torso and back, but not in a sexual manner. Just the act of clinging onto him, and feeling safe doing so, made their collective lack of balance worth it. The demon extended his wings as well, but neither one flew. They just continued to spin until the inevitable occurred. Maybe it was written. Maybe it was simply ineffable. But as the song began to come to a close, there was no denying that the dizziness would have an effect on the way they thought.

_Find me, find me, find me somebody to love_

Aziraphale, for the first time in the six thousand years of his existence, did not take a moment to weigh the good and the evil in a decision before he made it. He reached down and pressed his lips against Crowley’s.

_Anybody, anywhere, anybody find me someone to love_

Crowley had been taken by surprise, but not the unpleasant sort. He was quick to return the favour, all while slowly letting Aziraphale down to the ground. He had to lean down to reach the other by the end of the kiss.

_Somebody find me, find me love._

“Oh.” Aziraphale breathed. The song retreated as the final notes of piano played. He hadn’t expected this to happen. Perhaps, he thought, he had hoped it would happen. There was no regret in him, not like he had thought there would be.

“That was… something.” Did he not like it? Aziraphale was ready to feel regret, but waited, hanging onto anxiety instead. “Anything else you’re not telling me, angel?” _That_ was a smirk. This time, with the sunglasses still in his pocket, he knew for sure. But there was something else on the demon’s face.

They walked, as they so often did. _Now I’m Here_ was playing, at a significantly softer volume, in the car as they entered. The car, _miraculously_ , started, and moved. Certain things, Aziraphale decided, would not be told to the demon sitting to his right.

“How did we even get here? I don’t recognize any of these roads, it’s so dark.” Crowley muttered.

“I thought you had good night vision, dear. Have you never driven here before? It seemed to me like you knew the way when we were coming here.”

“My vision is fine! I’m just not sure how we got where we are, exactly. It was like someone else was turning the wheel for—” Crowley stopped. Not only his sentence but also the car. He turned his whole body to face Aziraphale. “Did you— no. No, you didn’t—”

“Didn’t do what?” It took everything in him to remain calm-looking. He kept his head ahead, only looking at Crowley occasionally, from one side of his eyes.

“Oh lord, you miracled my car, didn’t you? Miracled my fucking steering wheel underneath me!”

“I cannot deny that, dear. But, I must say, it was less of a miracle and more of a… nudge.”

“So you _nudged_ my car. Right, I see the difference. That’s so much better.” Sarcasm dripped off of Crowley’s tongue, but he wasn’t really as angry as he let on.

“Dear, if you’ll listen: I thought an adventure would be fun, I never do anything interesting anymore, I thought it would be nice to show you that I do more than just read books.”

“Oh, angel. You’re plenty interesting, I should know.” Crowley laughed, slumping back into his seat. “So is that why you—”

“No”

“Hm. Then, excuse my curiosity here, why did you?”

“I don’t know. It just felt right.” And it had. It had felt right, and now he wasn’t quite so sure it was.

“I think it felt pretty right too.” The adrenaline had worn off, and Crowley was beginning to feel the consequences of all that dancing down to the bones. He’d have asked Aziraphale to drive, but he honestly wasn’t quite sure if the angel could manage this car. So he just drove.

“Does this change anything?”

“I don’t know, angel, does it?”

“I suppose it must.”

“Then suppose we will.”


End file.
